In Between Codes

Chapter 5

With the routine, the movements became like lines of code, sequences that could be memorized with precision. Step one: jump. Step two: twist. Step three: kick. The more he thought of it this way, the more he was able to remember. After a few tries, he found himself following the choreography with more confidence—better than some of the other girls, even the ones who were supposed to be part of the cheerleading squad.

Laura, who had been watching him from the sidelines, noticed this change and raised an eyebrow. After a particularly clean round of steps, she glanced at him again.

"Not bad," she muttered. "You're keeping up better than some of the others."

Tomy could feel the faintest glimmer of relief.

"Okay," Laura continued, eyes narrowing, "you're not completely useless. I'm putting you in the front row with the other cheerleaders."

Tomy blinked, unsure whether that was a compliment or just a reluctant acknowledgment of his progress.

"But," Laura added, her tone sharp, "your attitude sucks. You need to work on that. You look like you're just... going through the motions. Cheerleading's about energy, about confidence. You need to feel it."

Laura turned to her vice-captain and said, "You keep teaching the others. I'll work with him."

The vice-captain gave a sharp nod, and the rest of the girls continued practicing in a slightly more disorganized manner. Laura turned back to Tomy, eyes narrowing with a critical gaze.

"Alright, listen. You need to look graceful. Smile. Move like you're floating." She demonstrated, moving through the steps like she was weightless, her body gliding effortlessly from one motion to the next.

Tomy stared, trying to catch the fluidity in her movements, but his body just wouldn't respond the same way. It felt awkward. Forced.

"Come on," Laura said, impatient. "Put some effort into it."

Tomy hesitated, took a deep breath, and tried to mimic the moves.

"Again!" Laura snapped, her arms crossed. "You look like you're trying to land an airplane, not do a cheerleading routine."

They worked through the routine again, and again. Laura corrected his posture, his smile, his steps, until Tomy felt like his muscles were sore and his face was on fire from the effort of trying to look effortless.

After what felt like a lifetime of practice, Laura stopped him.

"Better," she said, "You're starting to look more like a butterfly and less like a robot. But remember, to be able to sell it, you need to feel it."

Tomy nodded, breathing heavily. It had been the hardest 45 minutes of physical activity he had done all year, but he was happy with his progress. The routine was starting to feel natural, the steps no longer just code but something he could execute with precision and fluidity.

****

The gym doors opened, and a group of inspectors filed in, each with a clipboard in hand. They were dressed in formal clothes, a stark contrast to the gym's chaotic energy. Mr. Lopez straightened up and called out in his booming voice, "Alright, ladies! Show the inspectors what you've got!"

Tomy, positioned in the front row with the other cheerleaders, felt a lump form in his throat. There was something surreal about performing in front of these strangers—especially when he was the only boy. But he had worked so hard. He wasn't about to let nerves take him down now.

Laura shot him a brief, reassuring smile as the music began.

This was it. He could do this.

As the routine started, Tomy gave everything he had. The moves flowed more naturally now, and every time his foot hit the floor or his arms shot into the air, he felt the rhythm of the choreography. He smiled—genuinely this time. He remembered what Laura had said about looking graceful, about feeling the routine. He moved as if he was floating, each step more confident than the last.